When my babies were tiny, I used to spend hours gazing at their slumbering faces. Little nostrils flaring, breath setting a hypnotic beat, eyes twitching in dreamland, itty bitty fingers swatting away invisible itches on a scrunched up nose. Their little faces contorted this way and that. Their gaze so fixed on me upon waking. In their faces I would imagine them as toddlers, boys, grown men. It was an involuntary slideshow running before my eyes.
In a flash I would catch a glimpse of them as their older selves.
Now that my boys, my babies, are seven (complete with two missing front teeth!)and five, I see time reeling backwards and forwards in a cruel teasing tango. In a random giggle I see them as their infant selves. Perhaps it’s in a pensive moment while chilling out in the back seat. Perhaps it’s while they rest their heads upon each other, a scrambled mess tucked onto the beanbag chair.
At other times, I see my boys as men. When Bird glances at me sideways and snickers in jest at some silliness, I see him as a high schooler, rolling his eyes as my latest faux pas. When Deal perches on the couch with a toy catalog in hand, knees crossed, fist tucked beneath his chin, I see him as a contemplative adult. His gestures already too grown up for his five years.
Time is at once a thief and a jester. We want more of it, we want it to clip along at a faster pace, we want to switch it to slow motion, we want to hit the pause button, and sometimes we want to rewind. Yet Time controls us. We simply live to its ticking. It’s infinite and eternal beat. Sometimes I yearn for Alan Lightman’s world where Time stands still.
And so, at night when I am restless, I slip out of the comfort of my down quilt, kneel beside my sleeping boys, and watch them sleep. Inhale, exhale, twitch, rub, toss, flutter, turn, sigh. And I watch Time travel before my very eyes.
thanks for this. My twins are almost two, and I’m already feeling like they’re all grown up. Every day feels like a year, and every year feels like a day, yes?
Joe announced today that he would be in elementary school this year. Sure, it’ll be kindergarten, but he’s right. Realizing that felt like getting punched in my sternum.
I know that raising our boys to become happy, healthy and helpful adults is the goal. So why does it make me so sad to see his little feet get bigger or his hands fill mine that much more?!?
I love this! Thanks so much for sharing!
Where is that pause button when ya need it?
This post really struck a chord in me. With my 4 month old I have been constantly wondering when she will do _______ , and is she supposed to be doing _______ yet. It’s nice to read something like this to remind myself to take a step back & enjoy every minute of her infancy because it will be gone in a flash.